


Thou Art With Sin

by Euterpein



Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale's Genitals Are Not Specified (Good Omens), Blasphemy, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, M/M, Post-Canon, Role Reversal, Sexual Roleplay, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euterpein/pseuds/Euterpein
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale decide to switch things up in bed...literally.It goes about as well as could be expected.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094198
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41
Collections: 12 Days of Blasphemy 2020





	Thou Art With Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of the Twelve Days of Blasphemy!
> 
> Full prompt: “O make thyself with holy mourning black / and red with blushing, as thou art with sin.”

“Angel, angel, angel--!” Crowley couldn’t hold his head up anymore. He let it fall forward, pressed his forehead to the back of Azirpahlale’s sweaty neck, breathing in the earthy scent of him. He’d been draped over Aziraphale’s back in their bed for long enough now that he was beginning to lose his sense of time, beginning to lose everything but how good Aziraphale was making him feel.

Aziraphale reached up and behind himself and gripped his fingers in the curls at the base of Crowley’s neck, tugging at them desperately. “Not an angel tonight, dear, remember?” he panted.

Crowley groaned, equal parts frustration and acknowledgement. His hips were moving on their own, driving forward into the tight heat of his angel’s body without any consideration whatsoever from his poor, fried braincells. He tried to pull the plot back together.

“R-right,” he managed. “A demon, that’s what you are. Naughty, naughty demon.” His hips slammed forward in a particularly vicious thrust that made them both moan aloud, Aziraphale’s grip in his hair tightening until Crowley’s nearly crossed with pleasure.

“Yes!” Aziraphale’s voice was half muffled where his face was pressed into the mattress, but he managed to turn his head and try again. “You--oh!--you’ve caught me, and now you’re--”

Crowley kissed the back of Aziraphale’s neck as his words trailed off into a wordless cry, exploiting that perfect angle that made him dissolve into a puddle every time. “Thwarting you,” he said, almost idly, then with more confidence: “I’m thwarting you, ang--demon, for all your...nefarious deeds.”

Aziraphale let out something that might have been a laugh if he wasn’t nearly insensate with pleasure. “Crowley--love, I’m going to--”

“Do it,” Crowley panted immediately, focusing all his attention on keeping his thrusts steady and strong to work Aziraphale through it. “Go on, er...foul fiend, let my holy power overwhelm you!” He punctuated these last few words with hard, fast thrusts, driving himself into Aziraphale with the kind of fervour only his angel could elicit. 

Aziraphale’s body clenched down around him hard and Crowley gave his own cry, nearly matching the keen that Aziraphale below him was letting out. He kept thrusting as Aziraphale shook beneath him, working them both through it, until his thighs refused to hold him up even a moment longer. Crowley collapsed next to Aziraphale on the bed, sleepy and sticky and sated, and gathered him up in his arms.

Tired blue eyes peered up into his own, the ghost of a smile tugging at those cherubic features. “We’re not very good at this role-play business, are we, dear?’

“Nope,” Crowley said happily. He tucked one of Aziraphale’s wild curls behind his ear. “But we have a Hell of a lot of fun trying.” 

Aziraphale laughed. “That we do, my dear,” he said dreamily, resting his head on Crowley’s chest and letting his eyes drift closed. “That we do.”


End file.
